2012-10-02 Mirror Dance
It's lovely out. This is the girls' second go at fall, their first one in a temperate climate. Last year they were in California at this time. They've decided they like it. They're not sure about Halloween yet, but... candy. They do like that. Today, they've been playing money. Buying and selling art. It runs in the family, perhaps. They're on their way out of the auction house where they managed to unload a few paintings of questionable provenance - the forgeries are very good, though - and they've bought a few more for later. They're dressed for the area in grey silk suits, looking quite professional. That's the point, even though they did use meatpuppets for the auctions as always. They're arguing, telepathically, about where to eat lunch as they sail unimpeded down the sidewalk. It may be New York but telepaths can always make their own way. Shinobi's just finished his own lunch. Literally, in fact; he's just now stepping back out onto the sidewalk, having lingered a while after his meal with Emma to mull over the business proposition they'd discussed. As aloof as he tries to be, he /was/ getting kind of excited about the notion... which, to his mind, was a good sign. If it got /him/ that interested, imagine how other people would react. Shinobi stops near the curb and considered his options on where to go next, absently reaching into his jacket pocket for his earbuds as he casts his eyes about. He pauses when he sees blond hair and silk suits, his brow furrowing in confusion. Wait. Does not compute. The argument over where to eat is about to devolve into a mental shoving match when Shinobi's interest catches on their scans. They brush over his mind quickly - oh, another gawker - and move on for the moment. |"Thai."| |"Sushi."| |"Ice cream."| |"Phoebe!"| |"Sushi."| |"What?!"| Obviously, Shinobi's eyes are playing tricks on him. Emma left, he saw her go, and she wasn't dressed like that when she did. Also: there was only one of her. The world is simply ill-equipped to handle more than one Emma Frost. Still. Shinobi is perplexed enough that he abandons his own train of thought in order to wander up the street and towards the trio -- not close enough to actually get remotely near their space, he just wants to take a better look to try and quash his own confusion. Unfortunately, a better look seems to have the opposite effect. "...the hell." Oh, if only Shinobi could read minds. He'd know this is so very much not Emma. |"Ice cream isn't lunch."| |"Well, it's food."| |"It's lunch when you eat it for lunch."| |"Ooh, remember the place that had that lime and green chili ice cream?"| |"And the coconut ice cream."| |"And bubble tea!"| Ice cream for lunch, apparently. The girls slide their arms around each other and giggle right up until they realize that Shinobi is paying them a -lot- of attention. Now he's on the end of three blue glares. Ah. Now we're in familiar territory. Shinobi holds up his hands and has the grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," he calls, staying put where he is rather than venturing any closer. "You three just remind me very much of someone that I know. I thought I was seeing triple," he explains, sheepishly running a hand back over his hair. What the girls find in Shinobi's mind is not what they expect. |"Who is she?"| The gestalt closes on Shinobi's mind like a cold hand. They won't press deeper, not unless they must. They stalk Shinobi in the physical realm, moving in unison. That makes Shinobi pause. Okay. Another similarity. He was not anticipating this. He actually stays put when they approach, looking more perplexed than threatened. |"Emma Frost,"| he replies, seeming mildly surprised that anyone would need to be told who she is. Because he is. The girls are beyond anxious. |"Where is she?"| They want to run but the gestalt knows they've been seen and identified somehow. They can't let the man go. |"We would see her for ourselves."| On the one hand, Shinobi has not known Emma for very long. They're /barely/ friends, and even that is perhaps being somewhat generous. But. This seems like an... extenuating circumstance. She would forgive him. |"I can take you to her,"| Shinobi offers, very slowly reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. |"She's likely home by now. I'll need to ask her for directions."| The gestalt gives its consent. It doesn't bother to hide its presence in Shinobi's mind. Fear makes it heavy, it clings to his intentions and his reflexes so that he will be aware of its strength. |"If you must."| Despite the fact that his current situation feels /wholly dangerous/, Shinobi still offers one of the girls his arm as he dials Emma's number with his thumb. He knows to start walking uptown, at least, and tries to focus through the foreign presence in his mind. It's a little difficult. It takes barely any time at all for the other end to pick up and Emma's voice to come across the line. She sounds distracted, but every bit as business-like as one would expect. "Frost," she says, and there's some sort of rustling going on in the background. "Emma. I apologize for calling so soon," Shinobi says, glancing askance at the girls as he continues to walk. "But something's come up. ... Three somethings, actually. May I come by? I could, ah. I could use a little help. I think." That was fast. And a bit surprising, though nothing in there that causes her to go hunting for him or anything. He could, after all, be anywhere in the city. And Shinobi would hardly be asking to swing by if it was real trouble. She would assume. If not... well, wandering into the White Queen's parlor would be foolish for just about anyone. "Of course. Fifth Street, north end of the park. The tall building-- you'll want the penthouse." "Thank you. Start thinking of ways that I can repay you," Shinobi muses, before he kills the call. The phone gets tucked back into his pocket and, with a wry smile, he glances to the trio again. "I suppose you got all of that." The girls nod in unison. |"We did. We should go now."| One of the girls takes Shinobi's arm and they continue on. Now, no one is looking. The girls have wrapped them in an illusion to keep eyes away from them. They leave Shinobi's mind relatively unobscured, simply focusing on dampening the thoughts about them that arise. Ahh. That's a little better. Shinobi feels a little better about walking the girls to Emma's building, and it doesn't even take that long. Not by New York standards. He breezes into the lobby with them, nodding politely to the doorman, and ushers the girls into the elevator. One penthouse, coming up. |"I gather this is your first time meeting her,"| Shinobi guesses, glancing to the girl holding his arm. |"She can be... intimidating. But she's really quite pleasant."| The girls eye him coldly. |"That's irrelevant."| They're certain they can deal with one person. Shinobi's mind only shows them one woman, eerily like them. |"Many people are pleasant."| |"They can be pleasant and terrible at once."| It's a human skill. Emma left the door ajar, trusting Shinobi would take the hint while she wandered off to the other room. Thus they all get a few moments to take in the tastefully and richly-appointed domicile. It's all stark but comfortable white with tasteful modern furnishings and a lot of sleek silvery metallic accents and glass. And a lovely balcony with an inbuilt swimming pool lies beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows that form the outer curve of the kitchen and eating space. There's a television on an entertainment center, and a long row of bookshelves with a very wide assortment of books, many of them clearly antiques. The low glass coffee table holds a wineglass and Emma's copy of /The Prince/ from earlier that day. It's definitely lived-in, but also definitely kept tidy. there's a spiral staircase to a loft above, and at least two other rooms towards the back. |"I suppose. Still,"| Shinobi muses, looking up when the elevator opens. Ah. Here they are. |"I'd withold judgment until you actually meet her. Come on."| Shinobi leads the three out of the elevator and, despite feeling increasingly more like a hostage than a guide, holds the door open for them so that they can breeze inside past him. "Emma?" he calls lightly, glancing around from the door. "I'm afraid I'm not alone." The girls step away from Shinobi. |"You may wish to leave,"| the gestalt warns. They have no idea who this person is, they've made sure to obscure themselves from her and refuse to look until she makes the first move. When Emma emerges, she's still dressed in her suit and sneakers from earlier in the day, and she's holding a bottle of pain-killers. Truth to tell, she's been worried about the headaches. She's been having them again off and on for weeks now, and the last time she felt like this, she'd started hearing other people's thoughts. Since it was unlikely that was specifically going to be the issue again, she'd been a little concerned about what new surprise life had in store for her, but her wildest musings had been woefully inadequate for the reality she's actually going to be faced with. "I gathered as much from the call, Shinobi, but--" Emma comes to a screeching halt when she spots the girls. And Shinobi thought he had a tough time with it, right? Reflexively, her mind reaches for the girls and brushes featherlight across them. Not forcefully or invasive, but seeking answers to a very large question. Emma is quite aware of exactly how she looked at their age. Shinobi's not going anywhere. He's gotten Emma into this mess, whatever it is, and he's going to stay and see it through. He does, however, close the door, and remains silent. Touching the girls' mind is like brushing smooth diamond. Though their thoughts aren't accessible, the structure of the gestalt is at least somewhat familiar. Just. Strange. Multifaceted, bigger than Emma herself, slightly off-balance for some reason. The girls just look in the psychic realm for signs of aggression, ill intent, things that would mean this person is a danger to them. They find nothing, so they remain utterly still. They are not surprise that Emma exists, only to find her so suddenly. Emma, usually so collected, has a little bit of difficulty keeping her reactions off of her face as the brushing makes the obvious parts apparent. There's a bit of strange awe at first, while she first samples the girls' minds-- insofar as she does. Then the implications of hos this happened start to filter into place, and a towering, icy rage whips across her like a blizzard. She is... not as in-control as usual. Shinobi can probably feel the temperature drop in the room even though it hasn't. It isn't directed at the girls, of course-- nor somewhere particular, as she has little notion how this has occurred. But someone has clearly violated her. Twice, because the girls cannot possibly be unscathed. It doesn't last very long, however, before she has herself under control, though she has to close her eyes to do it. When they open, she offers the girls a slender hand-- which is definitely not the only offer the gesture is making-- and the room an apology. "Sorry. I am clearly not at my best right now. This is not a surprise I was prepared for." Ever, she does not add. Shinobi's still not going. He's completely intangible, yes, but he's not /going/. Only when Emma seems to exhale, figuratively speaking, does he let his body return to normal, though his eyes slide to the girls to see their reaction. "No apology necessary for me," he notes lightly. "But thank you all the same." The girls watch Emma's storm without shifting expression. The gestalt analyzes her anger and finds it sufficiently honest. After some consultation, the shields stay up but Sophie shakes Emma's hand. "We apologize for the intrusion. We needed only to ensure that you were not hunting us," she says for the gestalt. Hunting us. It's almost enough to set Emma right back off. The very idea. The implications of said idea. Her lips go a bit thin, but she simply takes Sofie's hand. Or that was her intent, but she finds herself pulling the girl into a one-armed hug, instead. "No intrusion," she assures them quietly, eyes flicking to Esme and Phoebe as she speaks. "If you need to be here, you should be here." The reverse is also true-- they don't have to stay, or come back. Other things... they're just as well unsaid for now. She doesn't even try for mental contact-- she knows how *she* would feel. She thinks. It's complicated. Now, Shinobi may not have the benefit of telepathy... but he's an observant young man. He simply eyes the four women across the room for a moment before he casts a look around and, without asking, quietly breezes his way into the kitchen. He doesn't even ask first. He goes in, he's gone for a few short minutes, and then he comes back out -- not with one martini, not with two, but with a tray of five. "I'd ask if you girls are old enough to drink," Shinobi says lightly as he steps over to hold out the tray, "but I don't particularly care." "Thank you," Sophie says for them all, even though she freezes up at the hug and then steps back into the shelter of her silent sisters. Silent in the physical world, silent in expression. Everything has retreated to the gestalt. |"Do we let them live?"| the gestalt asks itself. For a long moment - in their time - the question hangs. |"She could be useful."| |"He is irrelevant."| When Shinobi offers the drinks, the girls shake their heads in perfect unison. Not simply at the same time. "Thank you, but no. We don't drink," Sophie says politely. "It's not safe." She's not going to hide the reality of their concerns here. Emma doesn't pursue it. She lets them withdraw, having said her piece, and bypasses the martini tray to rummage in a drawer. She'll be back for the alcohol in a minute. Emma finds what he's looking for, considers it for a minute, and tosses it back in, changing her mind. No, just the drink, which she retrieves and has a long, thoughtful sip, watching the girls thoughtfully as she sinks into her sofa. She doesn't like being shaken this much, even if she's doing her best not to let it show. And she really should be saying something, she's sure, but words feel wholly inadequate... especially since she's about as inclined to retreat to her own thoughts as the girls are to bunker down among themselves. It takes her a while, but eventually she decides what's really on her mind and says it, eyes flicking back up to the girls. "I would not demand it," she says slowly. "but I will ask-- if you girls are willing to stay, I would like to know more about you." She glances towards Shinobi. "I'm sure it could be a private conversation if you'd prefer." "More for me," Shinobi replies easily, letting Emma take her glass before he scoops up one of his own, the tray relegated to a spot on the coffee table. "And yes. I could go." He'll worry -- he doesn't say that aloud, but anyone listening will be able to hear it and his own faint surprise about the fact -- but he's willing to make himself scarce. Just as soon as he tosses at least one drink back. The girls weigh the offer, then nod. They've watched Emma long enough to to be fairly certain of her - not enough to drop their shields, mind, but they can speak beyond them. "We can have private conversations regardless of others," Sophie says. They take in the apartment once more, paying attention this time. They don't like it, though they don't show it. It's too sterile. They are, however, willing to come a little further, keeping toward the windows. The first question on Emma's mind may not be the one they're expecting. She lets them wander freely and the drink steady her system. Shinobi gets an expression that invites him, silently, to stay or go, whichever he'd like. She's at least confident she'll be all right, now. "Do you have places to stay?" she asks. She suspects she knows the answer. But she's been on the street, and it wasn't a very enjoyable period in her life. She also wasn't running, and they clearly are. Besides, she may not have asked for them but... she still can't help but feel responsible. Too much ethics, Ms. Frost. Better not let too many people find out. "Oh, yes," Sophie says easily. Phoebe and Esme are wandering, yes, checking out their outs. "Friends, even." They're very proud of that, still. "But thank you." She stands with her back to the windows, hands clasped behind her back. The others are showing her everything they see, commenting on all of it. They like their home better. The bolthole with Laura and the workshop with Remy alike. The response gets a nod. Pleased, even. It's as Emma expected, and she's happy to hear it. "Good," she voices. She could say a lot more, but this is enough. After a bit of thought, she settles on another question. "How long has it been?" For his part, Shinobi returns his empty glass to the tray. And scoops up a new one. He's not going to let a perfectly good martini go to waste, especially not when he could really use a stiff drink. He's having... emotions. The hell is this shit. He settles into an armchair to quietly watch and listen. "Since we escaped? Two years." The gestalt doesn't see any reason to hide. The wandering sisters return and take their places, mimicking Sophie's stance perfectly. "We are eighteen years old now. We are not surprised you didn't know, by the way. We did not expect that you did, though that means little. Loyalty does not preclude ignorance." It would be like The World to keep a minion in the dark, especially a quixotic one like Emma. That last bit actually does earn the girls a flash of Emma's bad side. Just a small one, and it's not... entirely aimed at them, though it's clear she didn't care for the suggestion of complicity, even unknowingly. "This was an act of betrayal, not loyalty," she says, flatly, a fingernail tapping on her glass. She sounds far more like the girls, here-- but it's to be expected. "And betrayal gets what it deserves in the end," she adds. Someone is in an amazing amount of trouble when Emma finds them. She doesn't know who, but they're going to tell stories for years afterward. They would rather Emma be irritated than invade her privacy. Now they know because she told them. "That also is not unexpected," Sophie says simply. The betrayal and the revenge. "What more would you like to know?" In truth, they care to know little about her right now. What she does will be more important than what she says or even what she thinks. Emma closes her eyes for a few moments, spinning the stem of her glass between her fingers while her jaw works, and then she stands, headed for the kitchen to set the glass by the sink. "What you need," she replies simply. "The plan." She assumes they've at least worked out a vague notion of what they plan to do. "And if you've eaten." A pause, and she looks over towards them. "Not necessarily in that order or immediately." Or out loud, but she doesn't say that part. "We don't require anything," the girls say. "Only to know that you were not an immediate threat." Sophie holds up a hand. "We could know more, but we try not to do that. It doesn't suit us as long as we can claim some kind of safety." |"I still want ice cream."| "We haven't eaten, no, but we would like to return home. The plan... there is one. These things require time. It took us until recently to understand people enough to gather willing resources." Shinobi quietly watches the girls over his drink, letting the glass hide a small, concerned frown. They just sound so... mechanical. It makes the entire situation even more unnerving to him than it already is. "I realize that you don't know me from Adam," Shinobi finally says aloud, glancing briefly to Emma before returning his focus to Sophie. She seems like she's in charge. "But if I can be of any help..." He lets it hang there. Emma simply nods. She asked, they answered. "You are welcome here," she states for the record. "We don't always ask for things to come upon us, but it's no reason to reject them before they've been given full chance." There's a pause, and then she casts a thought out. Not directly at them, but where it can be caught. |"Truthfully, I don't find restraining myself to speech entirely comfortable. Perhaps necessary, today. Perhaps less so in the future. I won't keep you girls further."| They can feel her attention shift to Shinobi, if they're listening. She doesn't comment, exactly, but that doesn't stop her reflecting how much like his father he is. Useful. "We understand," Sophie says. |"We have learned to speak aloud for the comfort of others."| "Thank you for your time." They give Shinobi an odd little bow in unison. "Thank you for the offer. You do seem useful, yes." That is a high compliment from them. They agree with Emma on that point. Shinobi is clever, wealthy, and lacking enough conscience to be utilitarian but not so much as to be dangerous. "We are certain we will hear you if you wish to speak to us further," the gestalt says to Emma as the girls take their leave. "We apologize for disturbing your day." Day, month, year... life. It happens. "Don't apologize for the necessary, Girls," Emma replies. "We can accept that it simply is." It's an exclusive we, though subtly so. Emma is certainly not speaking for everyone on the planet, continent, city or even block. Once they make their leave, she folds her arms on the counter and exhales loudly. On the plus side... she's figured out the headache and it isn't some obscene New Mutation Surprise. She might even be relieved. Only once the door has closed behind the girls again does Shinobi finally relax. He hadn't realized he was tense. He lets out a breath and runs his hands back over his hair, sliding his eyes slowly over to Emma. Asking if she's alright seems... stupid. So he'll ask something more useful, instead. "Would you like me to make myself scarce?" he asks, raising a brow. He's quite willing to stay, but would not at all blame her if she needed some room. Emma considers the question for several seconds, and takes a long breath. Yeah, the whole thing was... tense. No way it couldn't be. She finally decides her answer, and points to the last two glasses on the tray. "*After* we drink those, yes." Category:Logs Category:RPLogs